All things grow (go): Buttermilk Pancakes with Nectarines and Rhubarb Compote

I have one specific strategy for getting myself back on track when things aren't going to plan. I'm not talking about the kind of difficulties that a series of red lights or an absence of your favorite ice cream flavor at Gino' brings. I'm focusing more on those moments where anxiety rules and you have no idea how this all happened and how you suddenly got stuck in the middle of it type of moments. You know the ones. They keep you distracted, awake at night and stuck to the bed first thing in the morning. They distract you, keep your mind fuzzy and your appetite weak. You know the ones.

We all have our little tricks but sometimes those gremlin-like moments seem to last for an incredibly long time and they require an extra form of ammunition to rid them from our lives. My secret weapon is the movie Little Miss Sunshine and more importantly, Sufjan Steven's song 'Chicago' from the movie. If you haven't seen it yet, get watching. It's essentially about a messed up family of oddball individuals who hate that they're even remotely related to each other and therefore, expected to at least acknowledge each others' presence. But it's also about how these socially failing misfits risk everything to help each other out. In this movie, listening is loving, provoking is loving, sometimes calling each other assholes is loving but most importantly, banding together is loving, making the oftentimes bumpy road ahead more fun and manageable together. 

Little Miss Sunshine reminds me that we're all a little messed up, that we spend most of our time not knowing what we're doing, that what we're experiencing now in our lives is not at all what we expected, even though we're not exactly sure what we expected. Just not this. There are positives and negatives to this viewpoint. I didn't expect to love my job so much, have such fantastic friends, my own place or so much travelling under my belt. I also didn't expect to be single, to be living in a city or to have a Mamma who is sick so young. This is the joy of Little Miss Sunshine. It drags me out of my world and into theirs and I feel like I'm on their journey in the bright yellow Combi, on a mission to make everything alright again. Every single time Sufjan Steven's song come on, I cry and it's just a relief. It wasn't until I listened to it recently again, though, that I realized that I had gotten the key lyrics wrong all along. 

Among the many beautifully articulate words that exist in Chicago, two lines stand out the most and have the greatest impact for me: "I made a lot of mistakes, in my mind, in my mind" and "all things go, all things go". We've all made mistakes in our lives but his line somehow forgives them all, like because we're all guilty of committing mistakes,  and then it's normalized because we are all culpable. It also reminds me that so many of my mistakes never actually existed. They were just trapped in my over-thinking mind and once I stepped back from them, they didn't exist at all, like turning on the lights before checking for the monster under your bed.

"All things go" shook me when I realized that the words were not "all things grow" like I had originally thought. When I would sing along to the song, I would belt out 'all things grow' to remind me that everything started from a seed, from a beginning and some plants struggle to grow tall, others bear bountiful fruit, others provide shade, a home or shelter, others die quickly but nourish the soil. All things grow made me realize that nothing stays the same and that everything will pass, confusion, anxiety and shitty situations pass, you just have to weather it out sometimes. When I first read 'all things go', I immediately thought of death and endings but when I think about it, it still feels the same; the only constant is change and growth, going, leaving, living are all around. Sometimes that is very uncomfortable because if you want to take the good with the bad, you have to sit with the awkwardness, the difficult times, those gremlin-like moments until they're finished, until new moments take their place. 

It's a tough lesson. To sit with it, the situation, yourself and all your reactions whizzing around. I've been trying to sit with all the uncontrollable change going on in my life lately and have been longing for a break from all the unease, the hassle, the shit. It turns out, I just needed to give myself a break. For me, taking breaks, being kind and pancakes are synonymous. This situation called for full on, fluffy, American style drop pancakes. It called for thick slabs of buttermilk heaven and lots of honey.

I write to get it all out. I write to free my head and my heart. I write to force myself to sit with the good and the bad and embrace them. I hope my writing can help you do the same, if even to eat buttermilk pancakes for fifteen minutes solid and breathe.
Enjoy.

Ingredients: Makes 10

1 cup all purpose flour (buckwheat is also perfect for gluten free lovelies)
1 level tsp baking soda
1 level tsp baking powder
1 pinch of salt
2 eggs 
1 cup buttermilk*
coconut oil for frying

1 nectarine per person
Large spoon of honey or maple syrup
1 tsp chia seeds

Optional rhubarb compote
3 sticks of fresh rhubarb
1 tsp vanilla
1 tablspoon raw muscovado sugar
1/4 tsp cinnamon
4 Tbsp cold water

*If you're vegan or not so keen on dairy, a nut milk based yogurt like coconut yogurt will work just as well.

Method:
Sieve the flour, baking soda and baking powder and salt into a bowl. In a seperate, smaller bowl, whisk the eggs and buttermilk (or yogurt) together. Add the egg and milk mix to the flour mix and beat well. Allow to rest for 5-10 minutes (in the fridge is even better), to let the buttermilk and soda react. Using a large non-stick frying pan, add a teaspoon of coconut oil to the pan on a medium to high heat. Drop a ladle of the pancake batter onto the pan (I fried 3 at a time). Fry for 2 minutes on each side (or until golden brown)** To serve, plate up the pancakes, top with honey, slices of fresh nectarine and a generous sprinkle of chia seeds.

To make the compote. Wash and slice the rhubarb into 1 inch thick slices. Place in a pot with the other ingredients. Put the lid on and bring to the boil then simmer for 10 minutes until the rhubarb is just soft. Drizzle rhubarb and the syrup over the pancakes. This compote also keeps for up to a week in the fridge in a sealed container and is a perfect yogurt topper for breakfast.

** This batter is perfect to multiply for extra hungry

numbers. I recommend putting the oven onto 80°C to keep each batch warm until they're all cooked, then sit down for your feast.

Staff Christmas Parties: Sweet Potato & Eggs with chili and seaweed dressing

I remember my first staff Christmas party. I was working in a local newspaper, 21 and bored out of my mind. It was my first job after I finished college. Throughout college, all I'd ever wanted was to get out of Ireland, travel somewhere warm, work on farms, swim in turquoise seas, talk about philosophy, learn to play the ukulele and have a great bunch of friends around me. All I ever wanted was a life the complete opposite to my own. When I took the job in the newspaper, I thought I would get to write about music and film, important happenings and save up to travel far away. It only took a few months to realize that as lovely as the people were, I was so far removed myself that each day I became progressively disconnected from everything that made me remotely who I am.

I remember that it was in a local hotel that I couldn't stand. The standard hotel Christmas dinner. I had panicked and bought a new dress and new shoes for the night, something that I never do. I'm thankful that I got to spend some quality time with my little sister as she showed me around and advised me on what to wear. In the end, I got kitten heels, sparkly ones that made me look like Bambi as I tried to walk in them. I looked grown up, sophisticated and lady-like. That was the idea, I thought: to look the part. In no way was I myself. I didn't even know what that meant.

The Christmas party last year was fantastic. A big gathering of all the teachers and staff from the school sitting at one long table. We ate, chatted, danced and though I was over the moon to be surrounded by brilliant people, I was so incredibly removed from myself. I don't remember who I sat next to or what I wore or what we ate. I don't remember laughing much. I just remember this deep-seated feeling of hoping that no-one knew how sad I actually was having been brutally heart broken only a few weeks beforehand.

This Christmas party couldn't have been more different. The same group of awesome people were there but this time I felt a part of it all. I sang my heart out and wasn't worried if people judged me. I danced my ass off and not for one minute thought I looked like an idiot. I chatted and listened away to so many amazing people and left, blissfully merry, at 6 am. The Grace that stumbled home this time last year is the antithesis to the one on Friday night.

Two things made all the difference. The first is that as much as I love Christmas, I was dreading it this year, worried that all the memories of being hurt, being single, being behind all my friends who are in great relationships, being alone, would come flooding back. What this time of year has taught me, though, is that things couldn't be better. The Christmas party this year just showed me once again that I am surrounded by a beautifully eclectic mix of crazy individuals who accept me and love me just the way I am. One such amazing and beautiful person told me how proud she was of me and my blog and how when I turned to food when I was heartbroken that I created something beautiful with my words, photographs and recipes. Words and experiences like that made me realize that the community and love and understanding of me being myself, wearing a colorful summer dress and flats that I kicked off so I could dance barefoot, is all around me. Living in Dublin and working where I do has instilled a love and respect for the present that I never could have imagined. I may be single this Christmas but that's ok because I'm surrounded by awesome people and couldn't be luckier. When I do meet a nice guy, a really sound, funny, caring guy, I can't wait to introduce him to these great people and to this new side of me that was buried under the worry and sarcasm all along, the side of me that is in love with life and isn't afraid to by myself.

In celebration of staff Christmas parties and being single and free to spend all morning making a brunch just for me, I give you sweet potato cakes with seaweed and chili dressing. Having given up on wheat and bread, I miss tucking into eggs on toast. This is even better than toast. Sweet potato is a major love of mine. I could eat it everyday and be blissfully happy forever. Crispy, toasty, warm potato slices that go amazingly well with eggs, this recipe is simply the best. This is such an easy recipe and serves 1 easily but can be changed for as many people as you need to cater for. I always imagine it would be the perfect hangover cure for a bunch of friends after a house party. Maybe another time.

Ingredients:
1 large sweet potato
2 eggs
2 tbs coconut oil
1 tsp turmeric
1/2 tsp chilli flakes
1 tbs dried seaweed mix
2-3 tsp natural yogurt

Method:
Preheat oven to 190°C. Wash the sweet potato and slice into thick circles. Rub the coconut oil on both sides and place on oven tray. Dust with the turmeric and bake in the oven for 30mins or more until cooked through and golden. Check after 15 mins and turn over to make both sides crispy. When the sweet potato is cooked through, turn down the heat to keep warm and melt the other tbs of coconut oil in a frying pan. Fry the eggs until cooked through but leave the egg yolk runny. Boil the kettle and add the seaweed to a mug of boiled water to rehydrate.

To plate up, place three large rings of sweet potato on the plate. Top with eggs. Add three of four dollops of yoghurt on the edge of the plate. Dust with chili flakes and seaweed and season well with salt and pepper.

Enjoy!

Make you banana pancakes, pretend like it's the weekend: Gluten free banana pancakes

I made these last weekend They've been on my list of food I want to share on my blog for a long time now. Who am I kidding? I don't have one list. I have post-its, backs of envelopes, backs of receipts, corner pages of electrical bills and at least five Google drive documents of lists of food that I want to cook or have cooked and want to learn about, make and share. A few months ago I wrote about lists. How they can be damning, anxiety inducing and debilitating. I lived my life through lists. Lists of things to do and see, places to go, chores to complete and most importantly (at the time) of how to improve myself, my personality, my appearance and my time.

At the beginning of 2014, I was determined that this year would be different. Not in a 'New Year's resolution' kind of way. More in a 'I'm ready to be a completely different person and discard the life I have' kind of way. I wanted to move countries, get a tan, erase all memory of a gut wrenching relationship and all the mistakes I had made along the way. I made a new type of list. A bucket list of sorts, I wrote down all the things I was passionate about and instead of chaining myself to fixed time frames of completion, I just stuck them on the wall beside my bed and glanced in their direction each day.

It's nearing the end of 2014 now and I count maybe ten completed tasks out of a possible fifty and I'm over the moon. The tasks were not to improve myself and make a more likeable interesting version of myself for the consideration of others. They were all completely "selfish", or what I now call "self-loving" ideas. The first one on the list was "go to New Zealand", which a few years ago seemed insurmountably, exhaustively impossible. A month later, I was there. I went on a surf holiday, grew food for myself, went on a road trip, had some of my writing published, went to more parties, danced more, swam more, took more photos, became a better Auntie, meditated, stressed less and made the most of my free time. If you had told me I would have achieved even one of these this time last year, I would have said you clearly didn't have a clue how weak and lost I was. Now I feel more like me, natural, giddy, freer. I used my time to do less, not more. To stop to look at the sunshine and notice the moon cycles and really listen when friends spoke to me and really be aware of what my body and mood were telling me about what my heart wanted.

Every morning, last year I would wake up and dread the day. All those things on the to do lists scattered by my bedside. How would I get them all done? How would I make them count, be perfect, figure it all out? Nearing the end of 2014, I'm not a different person by any means but I do have a different outlook. I feel like I learnt a lot about myself and the life I'm building within and around myself since the disintegration of my last relationship. There were great, loving memories, to be sure and an immense amount of love at some glorious times but I can also see that I dodged a bullet because I wasn't true to myself throughout the entire period we were together. One area of that relationship was trying to think and stress and do things on behalf of two. Each morning was a stress.

Lately, each morning is a blessing, each day an opportunity to be around great friends, in a work environment I love where I am myself. Each day, my aim is no longer to do more but to do less in a calmer way. My lists aren't full of improving tasks of hassle, they are of beautiful recipes I care about and each time I write them, I remind myself that there is time, always time.

I would listen to Jack Johnson at 17 years old and long for a surfer dude boyfriend to stay in bed with me all day, munching on banana pancakes and playing music, laughing, chatting and loving. These pancakes have been on many food lists since first discovering that song and the feelings of love I associated with it but I was waiting for the right time to make them. I realized I didn't need some dude, I could make them for me and a best friend. They were made on a rainy Saturday when Josefina was stressed all week and I was tired. We sat and watched two movies in our pajamas while we devoured these. They were soul-nourishing, delicious, fluffy and sweet. They were perfect.

This weekend, I urge you to make these. Dress them up on the plate like you're serving them to a date you want to impress and then eat them all for you and the people you love. Take all the time in the world. Make a double batch and just spend the morning doing nothing. We often feel like we don't have time, we aren't good enough, we always have to strive. I urge you to stop, realize we have all the time in the world, we are all deserving, all good enough and deserve to thrive, love and share.

So make like Jack Johnson and on a rainy, sleepy Saturday morning, go make these banana pancakes and live out every last drop of the beautiful beginning to the weekend.

Ingredients:
Makes 6 short stack pancakes and serves 2 awesome individuals

coconut oil for frying
3 bananas (kinda mushy)
2 eggs
1 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp baking powder

*note: These make short stack pancakes. If you're looking for crepes, add 1/2 cup almond/soy milk and blend through)

coconut oil for frying
1 banana for frying
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1 pomegranate

optional: creme fraiche/natural yoghurt 
topping: honey/maple syrup

Method:
Pancakes:
Using a handheld blender, blend bananas, eggs, cinnamon and baking powder. Leave in fridge for 30 minutes to let baking powder activate.
(Leaving it overnight is even better. If you don't have a blender, mash the bananas and whisk through the other ingredients well-you're looking for a pretty smooth batter)

Melt coconut oil in frying pan. Fry ladle fulls of the batter and flip pancakes once browned on one side. I kept my oven on low to keep the pancakes warm while I made the topping.

Topping:
Melt coconut oil in same pan you used for pancakes. Slice bananas at an angle until they brown on both sides. Sprinkle with cinnamon. Slice pomegranate in half. Hold one half in your hand and using the back of a wooden spoon, spank the shell. The seeds will fall out into your hand.

Plate up pancakes, stacking them one on top of the other. Drizzle with honey/maple syrup, lay grilled bananas on top and sprinkle pomegranate seeds on top.
Enjoy!